


As Knight falls

by Jessymessy101



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Caring, Dont mess with Galahad, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Injured Tristan, King arthur (2004) - Freeform, M/M, argumentative galahad, before the events of the film, cheeky tristan, eventual slash, protective Galahad, romans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 01:13:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessymessy101/pseuds/Jessymessy101
Summary: Tristan is an easy target for the Romans to pick fights with him, he's strong, fast and has a reputation. He certainly doesn't need protecting!





	1. Backup

**Author's Note:**

> Recently watched the 2004 King Arthur film with Hugh Dancy and Mads Mikkelsen and fell in love with the ship. It's like Hannibal throughout history. 
> 
> This was going to be a one-shot but it became too long so decided to split it into short chapters. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The dull sounds of life from the tavern drifted on the wind into the night letting him know that civilization was close by. Tristan sat propped up against the solid structure of a large oak tree that was situated at the edge of the forest. The clearing before him gave him the perfect view of the barracks spreading out across the vast fields that surrounded them to the treeline beyond. The moon was bright and low in the sky tonight casting a white glow through the gaps in the trees, Tristan looked down at the lights from the buildings bellow clustered together reflecting the image of the stars in the night sky. 

It was still early in the evening and the celebrations for the latest successful mission were well underway. Tristan had, as he often did, chosen to forgo the festivities for the solitude of nature. He preferred to be alone with his thoughts after a battle as it gave him the opportunity to process the sites and smells he had witnessed. He had been one of Arthur’s knights for nearly fifteen years and been involved in hundreds of battles, killed too many men to count but it weighed heavily on the scout's mind despite his years of desensitization to death. Hiding out in the trees with his beloved Hawk Isolde who was currently perched on the branch to the side of him preening her feathers with such ease and dexterity. 

Tristan let out a long breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, the night air turning his breath into a wisp of grey as the warmth hit the cold. Isolde paused to watch her master tilting her head in a way that could have been perceived as curiosity. 

“What are you looking at?” Tristan huffed at the bird, his voice gruff with a hint of irritation. The thoughts of the day’s events crossed his mind once more. 

_The Saxon charged towards to the small hut axe raised high above his head in one hand and a flaming torch held out in front of him in his other hand. The harsh cries rang out across the field hitting Tristan’s ears before he could even see the attacker. He swung around with his own sword in hand making immediate contact with the handle of the axe before it could come down on him. The Saxon growled with rage at Tristan’s defense, snarling once more he pulled the axe away taking a step back from the fight. Tristan eyed him carefully watching his every move planning in his head the next point of attack, knowing full well that this wouldn’t end until one of them was dead. The Saxon glanced to the left where a family’s home stood with the family still cowering inside, too afraid to make a break for the door even with Tristan defending their escape. Before Tristan could react the torch left the Saxon’s hand flying through the air landing on the thatched roof. Smoke billowed up into the sky blocking out the mid-day sun and diminishing Tristan’s view of the battlefield and his opponent. The Saxon had used this to his advantaged and charged into the house the fire still confined to the thatched roof, all Tristan could hear next were the screams._

A loud squawk from beside him drew him from his painful memory, looking across at his feathered friend he watched as she pushed herself from the branch and soared down towards the barracks. The elegance of her flight pushed away the remaining memory till it was just a dull ache at the back of his mind. He watched her land on the rooftop of the building just across from the tavern, where he noticed the sudden appearance of the young curly-haired man as he came flying through the doors barging his way through the few people that were gathered around the entrance. 

It took Tristan two hops to get down from his perch and only a brisk walk back towards the lights. The noise grew louder as he approached the door, the young man that had drawn his attention was no longer in sight. Believing in his drunken state that he might have wandered back inside for another drink, Tristan hesitantly made his way inside. 

The room was darkened by the smoke from the large looming fireplace that took up the majority of the left wall, through the smoke and bodies his eyes fell on the tables at the back of the tavern where his friends…brothers…all sat laughing, roaring and sloshing their drinks all over the place. He began to make his way over to the table squeezing through groups of Roman soldiers as they too drank and bellowed at each other. Before he could even make his presence known to his comrades a heavy force suddenly forced him into the wall. 

“Watch it you Sarmatian scum!” the words were spat at him as he tried to right himself, although he hadn’t fallen the force of the shove was enough to knock his balance. Tristan was a man of few words and even more so when it came to confrontation, he relied on his sword to do the talking for him. Unfortunately for Tristan he had stored his sword away after cleaning it. 

“Perhaps it is I who should be advising you to ‘watch it’” It wasn’t like he couldn’t rely on his words to get him out of a situation but usually his brash comments got him into more trouble than it was worth. This was one of those times. 

“What did you say?” The roman moved closer to Tristan squaring up to him preparing himself for the fight looming. Puffing out his chest to bring himself up to his full height Tristan easily towered over the man who seemed uneasy for a moment. 

“I suggest you walk away before you make me do something I’ll regret” Tristan was calm and it showed in his confidence. 

“Leave it Tristan” The voice of Gawain met his ears and he soon realised that the roaring in the room had hushed to a gentle rumbling as people around them started to prepare themselves to get out of the way of the fight. 

“Go on Tristan Square him in the jaw, that’ll shut him up” Bors shouted his encouragement before taking another swig, he was clearly drunk and it was just like Bors to reach the stage of drunk where a fight would often ensue. 

“Shut up Bors, we don’t want a fight…do we Tristan?” Gawain’s voice was warning him to back off but nothing was stopping Tristan now, his pride had been knocked and he wasn’t about to just let that go. 

“You better listen to him” The roman actually spat at him this time, the gob of phlegm and beer hitting his chin. Tristan pulled his sleeve up and without word wiped it clean away. 

“He has backup Tristan” Gawain warned looking at the gathering henchmen behind the man all of whom were Romans daring to show their strength. Tristan was well known for being strong and nimble in a fight, he was also known for being a hard man to beat. This had not worked out to his advantage, as more often than not the Romans would attempt to show their worth by picking fights with him. 

“I thought I did?” Tristan glared at Gawain the accusation burning into him. 

“That’s enough, all of you…Tristan go wait for me in my quarters” Arthur rose from his seat pulling himself up to his full height, he wasn’t exactly a tall man but he had an air about him that made other men cower away from him. Tristan hesitated eyeing the Roman now standing inches from his face, he didn’t want to appear weak but he also respected Arthur’s position and would follow any order he gave. Wrapping his fingers around the braid hanging loosely by his face in a small gesture, Tristan bowed towards Arthur before heading out the door, the sea of people in the tavern parted the way for him to get through none of them daring to mess with the scout. 

“As for you, I suggest you get back to your post and if I hear you’ve been picking fights with my knights again you’ll have me to answer to…do you understand?” It wasn’t so much a question as the Roman looked Arthur up and down, a daring move on his part considering Arthur’s threat but he backed off heading to a side door with his men following close behind. 


	2. Galahad the pure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by that one short clip from King Arthur in which Galahad with his quick reflexes stops that Roman soldier from chasing Lucan and puts his sword to his neck.

The next morning the sun was bright and it stung at Tristan’s eyes he made his way through the quiet streets, the only sounds coming from the early morning chirps of the birds and the whinnies from the horses as he passed the stables. He hadn’t slept after Arthur had reprimanded him for encouraging the Romans into a fight. 

As he entered the courtyard Tristan noticed a few stable boys starting their day, they bowed as he passed showing respect to the position of the knights.   
“Well, well the early bird catches the worm” The same shrill voice of the Roman from the tavern pierced Tristan’s ears pulling him to a stop in the middle of the courtyard. 

Turning around to face the confrontation Tristan glanced at his sides as he felt the presence of three more men surrounding him from all angles.  
“What, no backup this morning” The roman laughed spitting the floor in front of Tristan. “Have you nothing to say before I put you in your place?” The Roman approached Tristan slowly a grin pulling at his lips goading Tristan into not only a fight but doing his best to aggravate the man. 

“I have nothing to say to you” Tristan replied bluntly not wanting to bother with the Romans but also fully aware that he was outnumbered, he was a skilled fighter but he had no weapons and his chances were lessened by the sheer number of Romans surrounding him cutting off any escape he may have planned. 

“So be it” The roman spat and before Tristan could react he was toppling forward his face flying towards the floor, he held out his hands to catch himself as the pain shot through the back of his head. The Roman to his right had raised a club to his head smacking it down to bring him to his knees. He rubbed at the oozing wound on the base of his neck pulling his bloodied fingers to his face to examine the extent of the damage. Another blow, this time to his stomach as the Roman that liked to spit kicked him knocking the wind out of him. They began circling him like vultures drawing their swords, the Roman directly behind him slamming his foot down on his back pushing his face into the dirt holding him still whilst the others got their licks in. There was a shot of pain in his cheek when the boot of the man to his right connected with his face. Tristan spat out the blood that had begun to pool in his mouth coughing as he choked back his breath and blood. Another blow to the top of his head before he was pulled backward by his hair, he faced the sky now the morning sun shadowing the faces of his attackers. 

“Still nothing to say?” The Roman laughed once more yanking Tristan’s braids so his neck was exposed, the roman gently placed the edge of his pristine sword, that had clearly never seen battle, against his skin. Tristan mustered up all the blood and phlegm from his mouth and spat it into the face of the roman that winced at the hit. “You’ll regret that” The roman used his arm to wipe away what he could whilst still holding onto Tristan. He pulled his sword back ready to swing it down on the knight’s neck Tristan closed his eyes preparing for the impact, which never came. 

“Drop your sword!” The voice was familiar and brought hope to Tristan as he was pulled around to face the newcomer. Tristan opened his eyes to see the young knight Galahad with a worn blade pressed against the Roman’s chest and a small dagger in the other hand applying pressure and warning to his side. 

“He’s disrespected me and my men, this is his punishment” The Roman was enraged now and yanked at Tristan’s hair once more, yet still the knight didn’t make a sound no expression on his face as he starred at Galahad. 

“His punishment for defending your sorry arses for fifteen years is…death?” Galahad’s voice grew louder as he spoke, the passion and anger he held towards the Romans building up inside him. 

“When I’m finished with him, you’re next” The Roman replaced his sword on Tristan’s neck un-phased by the knife to his side or the sword at his chest. 

“If you lay another hand on him and I will kill you…now drop your sword!” Galahad screamed out the order, glaring around at the other men in the courtyard who were considering each other and their leader unsure what to do. “All of you!” this order was enough to make them drop their swords and step away not wanting to push their luck with the smaller man. Galahad was small in size but he was a knight and his rage was enough to square off against them all warning them back. 

The Roman at the end of his sword smirked pulling his lips till he was roaring with laughter.   
“You’re pathetic” He began to run his sword gently across Tristan's skin creating a thin line across his neck not enough to cause lethal harm but enough to cause a burning pain. Tristan winced finally as the sword pulled away once more ready to strike him down. 

“I won't warn you again” Galahad was clear and concise as he pressed his blade further into the Roman’s side, he flinched as the blade pierced the skin beneath his clothes. 

The Roman merely laughed bringing his sword down on Tristan, Galahad plunged the knife into his side so deep the hilt was disappearing into the man the warm blood seeping from the new wound. The Roman doubled over with the pain his sword falling limp at his side, Galahad kicked the sword away across the dirt removing the knife from his side and throwing it across the yard. He held both hands grasped over the handle of his own sword still sitting at the base of the Roman’s ribs.   
“I told you I wouldn’t warn you again” Galahad wasted no time in plunging the sword through the Roman’s chest, he panted out his breaths trying to capture the air in his lungs but struggling as the sword made its way further through his body. Galahad pulled free his sword allowing the now lifeless roman to collapse to the dirt. 

Tristan collapsed to his side as the pain took over, Galahad threw down his sword and rushed to his side pulling the older knight close to him holding him against his chest. 

“Tristan?” 

“Galahad the pure” Tristan muttered under his breath. 

“Tristan I need you to stay awake” Galahad shook the man beneath him trying to hold him up but the dead weight of the man was proving difficult for him. 

“My head” Tristan murmured as his eyes rolled back and he fell unconscious. His breathing was shallow but at least it was there.


	3. Back street plans

Galahad stumbled out of the tavern into the night air, it hit him like a cold brick wall. He righted himself against the wall letting the spinning in his vision settle before attempting to walk off. It was cold tonight but Galahad had been warmed by the ale now running through his veins, he managed to push off the wall and make a relatively straight line towards the knight’s quarters. 

He had called it a night after he thought he could beat Bors in an arm wrestle that hadn’t gone his way. Ale did that to Galahad made him feel more daring than he usually would. He tripped over his feet as he walked every couple of steps his drunken state evident as he moved through the streets, the cool night air was sobering him up nicely. 

Galahad liked to drink with his brothers it made him feel like he was a part of something despite being the youngest and often the butt of the jokes he never felt like he was excluded from them when they drank together. The only person he felt that way towards was Tristan, the man was solitary by nature but even with the other knights he acted differently with them than he did towards him. Tristan had always been quiet when it came to Galahad and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the younger Knight, all Galahad wanted was to be his friend maybe share a conversation or two once in a while but for some reason, one that Galahad hadn’t quite put his finger on yet, Tristan didn’t want the same thing. A strident squawk broke him from his thoughts as he looked up at the rooftops spotting the hawk watching him with her beady eyes. 

“What are you looking at?” Galahad groaned at the bird that cocked her head at him listened to the sound of his voice. Isolde squawked once more at the knight flapping her wings as if she were sending a signal but for the life of him, Galahad had no clue what she was trying to say. 

“I’m not your damn master, unlike him, I have no idea what you want” Galahad wouldn’t admit it but he was jealous of the hawk’s relationship with the older man, she was allowed within close proximity of him without being glared at by piercing brown eyes. She also had the privilege of knowing the inner thoughts of the mysterious scout, Galahad had once walked into the stables to discover Tristan openly talking at the bird, he had stood hidden from sight listening to the one-sided conversation as Tristan re-told the events of an old battle from years ago. It wasn’t long before Tristan, using his fine-tuned senses, discovered Galahad hiding nearby. Tristan had shot him a warning scowl before leaving without a word. 

Galahad picked up his pace as best he could in his drunken state leaving the bird behind, he was stopped once more when the same squawk appeared ahead of him on a fence post. 

“Leave me alone! Why don’t you go pester Tristan?” He waved his arm at the bird shooing her from her perch, she flew off back towards the Tavern his eyes followed her graceful movements through the air as she landed on the shoulder of the man he really didn’t want to see. Galahad ducked into a side street watching Tristan storm past him heading for Arthur’s rooms. Tristan looked angry, his eyes shone in the moonlight and were filled with rage, he had never seen the man this angry before, to tell the truth, it frightened Galahad. The slamming of a door drew his attention back to the Tavern, the only light from the moonlight and a small open window casting shadows over the four clearly Roman soldiers now stomping down the street in the same direction Tristan had just gone. 

“That bloody Knight, someone needs to teach him a lesson on respect” The Roman at the front of the group, clearly the man in charge, spat out the words like it was a bad taste in his mouth. 

“What’s the plan?” one of the other soldiers asked grinding their leader to a halt just short of the street Galahad was hiding down. Galahad drew closer to the wall his back pressed firmly against it trying to hide further in the shadows. 

“Every morning he goes for a ride into the forest so early tomorrow morning we will greet him at the courtyard, we can make it look like he’s picked a fight with us and after the show in there tonight who will question our motives” The leader laid out the plan, they were going to meet at first light and head down to the courtyard in the hopes of intercepting Tristan. 

“What about the other knights?” Another soldier spoke up. 

“They’re all off their faces, they’ll still be legless by tomorrow if they carry on the way they are…but that means we’ll get a few good licks in before Arthur and his merry band of men turns up” 

“Are we going to kill him?” The third and final solider asked with a slight hint of fear in his voice. 

“Too right, it's about time we put an end to the reign of Tristan, we're going to do what no other Roman has managed so far” The leader’s voice was a low growling whisper as he finalized his plan with his men. 

The words sent a chill down Galahad’s spine, they were going to try and kill Tristan and he would be outnumbered and alone. As good a soldier as Galahad knew Tristan was he knew that without his sword he would be overpowered quickly and something in the Roman’s voice told Galahad he wasn’t bluffing, come tomorrow morning Tristan would be dead.


	4. Healing hands

The door flung open and Bors came barging through with Tristan flung over his shoulders the man was limp across his back his arms hanging floppy with the little hint of life in the man. He had been out cold since the attack, which worried Galahad as he shouldn’t be out for this long, it could mean his head injuries were worse than they first expected. 

Luckily for Tristan, Bors had come wandering down the street with half a dozen of his brood when he came across the scene in the courtyard. 

“Throw him on the bed, I’ll get the water” Galahad began gathering the things he would need to clean up the injuries keeping one eye on Tristan the whole time. 

“I’ll go get Arthur” Bors announced heading for the door. 

“Bors wait! Thank you” Galahad took a moment to acknowledge his brother at the door, he had arrived just in time and they both knew that. 

“Get him cleaned up” Bors replied leaving the pair alone in the room. He had brought Tristan straight to Galahad’s room, as it was the closest to the stables and had the most supplies that he was currently throwing into a pile at the end of the bed. He poured out some water from the pot over the fireplace into a small shallow bowl dipping some clean cloth into the water ringing it out. The groan from Tristan caught his attention he was coming around. 

“Tristan?” Galahad was at his side in a moment the damp cloth still in his hand. 

“What…happened?” Tristan tried to sit up but a blast of pain hit him forcing him back down. 

“Don’t try to move till I can assess those injuries” Galahad scolded, he didn’t intend it to sound so pushy but he needed him to lie still. 

“Pup?” The use of his nickname paused Galahad a moment looking over at Tristan his eyes closed tightly as his grimaced under the pain. 

“You were attacked” Galahad filled in the question with a brief answer that seemed to satisfy Tristan enough to keep him calm for now. 

“The Roman?” 

“Dead” Galahad’s gaze met his hands and he suddenly became more interested in the menial task he was performing than Tristan’s eyes on him. 

“Galahad the pure, who does not kill for pleasure” Tristan slurred the pain from the injuries to his head causing pain every time he spoke. 

“Shut up, now do you think you can sit up for me…slowly!” The command was firm but with a caring tone. 

Tristan struggled but managed to push himself up onto his elbows carefully swinging his legs around to the side of the bed pushing with his hands till he was upright. His hands instinctively reached to the back of his head where the wet blood was beginning to dry in his braids at the back of his hair. 

“Try not to touch it, I need to clean it” Galahad rung out the wet cloth into the bowl sitting down sideways on from Tristan so he could get access to his neck. Tentatively so as not to startle the man he placed the warm cloth over the bloodied area. Tristan recoiled at the touch taking in a sharp breath, it wasn’t so much that it hurt but the shock of the water on his neck as it trickled down his back. 

“Try to stay still for me” they sat in silence as Galahad wiped away the majority of the blood from the area to reveal the minor gash at the base of his skull, it seemed like such an insignificant wound now the blood was clear but this could have easily killed the scout. Galahad tried to push the thought away as he focused on preparing a balm to apply to the wound to avoid infection. 

The silence had become deafening as he thoughts screamed to get out, how could Tristan get himself into this situation, he could have died…he could have lost him! No! He couldn’t think like that. Why was he thinking like that? It wasn’t as if he was even friends with Tristan, the older knight had spent the last fifteen years doing his utmost to avoid him and when they had to speak it was always laden with mockery on Tristan’s part. Galahad should hate him for the way he’s treated him over the years but he found himself calmed by his presence beside him not angered. 

“Your thoughts are very loud pup” There was that annoying nickname again, Galahad didn’t know when that had begun or the reason why but all he knew was that it infuriated him to no end. 

“Don’t call me that,” Galahad snapped his voice low. 

“Well don’t think so loud,” Tristan snapped back turning his head quickly causing another shot of pain down his back. 

“Don’t do that! Just sit still can you handle that?” Galahad barked at him as he tried to steady Tristan’s head with his hands, they were wrapped around either side of his face holding his head straight. “And I wasn’t…thinking loudly?” Galahad muttered unsure what Tristan was even getting at. 

“The whole barracks can hear you…would you like to share?” Galahad had removed his hands allowing Tristan to turn his head once more, this time slower so as not to cause any more damage. 

“Not with you” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yes” 

“So you do want to share?” Tristan smirked. 

“What? No! Shut up trying to confuse me” Galahad barked back focusing his attention now on cleaning the second wound at the top of his head. Tristan chuckled softly at the frustration growing in Galahad’s voice. 

“You are too easy to wind up little pup” Tristan continued to chuckled gaining him a daggered look from Galahad. 

“Would you like to do this yourself?” Tristan stopped laughing noting the seriousness in the younger man’s voice. “Right well be quiet I need to concentrate”. That was a lie all he needed to do was wash the wound and apply the healing balm no amount of concentration warranted complete silence, but he would prefer not to talk to Tristan right now. 

They settled into silence again whilst Galahad finished on the more serious wounds before focusing on the bruising and cuts to his face. 

“Turn to face me” Galahad replaced the cloth for a clean one wetting the corner a little with the warm water. Tristan had done as instructed and was now sitting face to face with Galahad, their faces inches apart. Galahad took in a breath at the sight of the deep brown eyes now dangerously close to him, his heart hammering in his chest. 

“Everything alright?” Tristan asked, no everything wasn’t alright he was sitting here beaten half to death and Galahad couldn’t breathe as his emotions and the adrenaline coursed through him. 

“Fine, just turn your head this way…that’s it” Galahad brushed away the moment pulling Tristan’s chin round slightly so he had better access to the cut on his lip. His free hand resting on the side of his face as he dabbed gently at the cut, Tristan only flinched the first few pats before settling into the touch. 

“I should thank you for saving me,” Tristan muttered, the cloth muffling his words slightly. 

“No need to thank me, I was only doing my job” Galahad knew he was being cold but he didn’t care, he knew Tristan didn’t like him let alone appreciate him for his actions. 

“Your job? Are we not comrades? Brothers?” Tristan attempted to pull Galahad into the conversation with him but he seemed reluctant. 

“I would have done the same for anyone outnumbered four to one…you’re nothing special” the words were cold and harsh and he instantly regretted them when he saw the pained look in Tristan’s eyes. Tristan flinched harshly at the last dab of the cloth pulling away from his touch. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” The cold exterior he was trying to portray suddenly fell away revealing his real concern as Tristan pulled away. 

“So you do care?” Tristan mocked, his smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 

Before Galahad could answer there were three loud knocks on the door followed by Arthur letting himself into the room. 

Galahad jumped up from the bed busying himself with the cloth and water getting rid of them leaving Tristan alone on the bed once more. He leaned against the cabinet across the room his back to the two men in the room, his heart still hammered away and the feeling of disappointment crept through him at the sudden interruption, they seemed to be getting somewhere before Arthur had interrupted. Not that he cared, he didn’t even like Tristan…did he? 

“Tristan, what the hell happened?” Arthur barged into the room standing over Tristan who raised himself up in the bed trying to assert his own power and pride at the intimidating presence now before him. 

“Those Romans from last night, they ambushed me in the courtyard I was outnumbered…If it weren’t for pu…Galahad, I would be dead” Tristan halted before he could let the nickname fall free, it wasn’t like he hadn’t called him pup in front of Arthur before but this felt more official almost like a post-mission briefing. 

“It was a good job Galahad was there” He sighed looking over at Galahad who had now turned around to watch the exchange “And what of the Roman soldiers?” Arthur pressed while Tristan turned his gaze to Galahad with pleading in his face. 

“The guy in charge is dead, I let the others go free” Galahad filled in the gaps for Arthur, Tristan had been awake for the final part of the fight but Arthur’s interrogation was actually making the usually stoic knight quite flustered. 

“What were you doing there Galahad? You were supposed to come see me this morning” Arthur had a look of confusion on his face, something clearly didn’t sit right with him about the whole event and he usually got the answers he wanted. 

“I was heading to your rooms when I saw them attack Tristan” Arthur scowled at his response, he didn’t believe him or rather if he did believe him then he wasn’t letting that show. 

“You’re very lucky Tristan, if Galahad hadn’t been in the right place at the right time this could have been a whole lot worse” Arthur paused his lips curled into a grin at the two men, he was obviously thinking of something but not sharing those thoughts. “Well, you’re clearly in good hands so I’ll let you get some rest” Arthur nodded at the two men who bowed their heads out of respect for their superior knight and they watched him leave.


	5. A hawk's call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went a bit OTT with the fluff and romance at the end of this story but I was feeling particularly sentimental when I wrote it.

It had been a few days now since the attack and Tristan was beginning to feel almost back to normal, apart from the dull ache that persisted in his head. His lip had mostly healed leaving a nasty looking scar behind adding to his extensive amount of battle scars already scattering his body. He hadn’t spoken to Galahad since he had tenderly cleaned his wounds and he had gained a dull ache in the pit of his stomach that much like the pain in his head wouldn’t shift. He put it down to being kicked in the stomach by the Romans during the attack but he couldn’t ignore the fluttering in his chest whenever he saw the young knight or the pounding of his heart whenever they had to ride side by side. 

They rode in silence after the latest excursion over the wall into Saxon lands. Tristan had been given his usual role of scouting ahead but was warned by Arthur to not engage in confrontation as he was still healing, he had grumbled at the request but obeyed none the less because he was still Arthur’s Knight. The mission had been to retrieve a small settlement of Romans that had settled too far into Saxon territory and bring them back to the barracks. Thanks to Tristan they found an alternative route through the forest back to the wall and managed to avoid any fighting at all save for a few Woads at the edge of the treeline. 

Tristan had ridden ahead of the convoy checking for danger but once they were safely back over the wall he settled towards the back of the line where Galahad had been posted to make sure no one was trailing behind. They rode in silence till they could see the barracks looming over the horizon. Tristan had pre-occupied himself by entertaining some of the children walking at the back of the troupe with the help of Isolde who soared overhead doing tricks for treats and landing with a flap of her wings on his shoulder. The children watched wide-eyed as the bird nuzzled her beak into the knight who chirped at her in response. 

Galahad watched the interaction with a warm smile pulling at his lips trying his best not to get caught staring at the intimate moment despite the audience of children that had gathered. 

“Who would like to hold her?” Tristan had declared and the children all jumped excitedly around him each wanting a turn with the bird. Galahad couldn’t help but laugh at the sight before him forgetting for a moment that the man currently passing a hawk between the children was actually a trained killer. 

“Would you like a turn little pup?” The children giggled at the nickname watching their other protector as he blushed a bright red turning his gaze away and dropping his smile. 

“Someone has to keep watch,” He snarled accusingly at Tristan who simply laughed at him letting the bird fly from his arm to land on Galahad’s shoulder. 

“Really?” Galahad snapped loudly trying to brush the bird from his shoulder not really afraid of the sharp talons or the beak trying to defend itself from his flailing arm. 

“She likes you” Tristan commented whistling for the bird to come back to him. 

“Thank you” Galahad didn’t sound sincere in his thanks but Tristan didn’t care he had found amusement in the sight. 

“Be free girl” He whispered once more at the bird before pushing her into the sky giving her the momentum to take flight. 

“Why do you feel the need to wind me up all the time?” Galahad asked, he tried to portray it as a rhetorical question but something inside him wanted to know the reason why the older man always picked on him. 

“You are an easy target Galahad…and it gets your attention” Tristan spoke with confidence. 

“My attention? I didn’t think you even liked me let alone wanted my attention?” Galahad was taken back by the comment for so long he had thought Tristan hated him or at least tolerated him. 

“I like you Galahad” When had Tristan started using his name rather than that irritating ‘pup’, he was so wrapped up in his annoyance that he hadn’t noticed the genuine honesty in Tristan’s words. Before Galahad could respond with anything Tristan urged his horse forward into a canter as he disappeared up the ranks to the front of the convoy. 

………………………………

 

Galahad was relieved when they finally made it back to the barracks he stabled his beloved horse and stretched his back alleviating the strain from the ride. 

“You coming for a drink?” Gawain smacked him on his back mid-stretch causing him to recoil away from him. 

“I’ll catch you up I need to freshen up first” Galahad really didn’t feel like drinking tonight he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. 

“Fair enough, I’ll meet you there?” Galahad nodded his response and watched Gawain leave taking the moment on his own to let out the tension he’d been feeling the whole ride back with a deep sigh. Tristan was on his mind still and no matter what he tried he couldn’t shift his smug face from behind his eyes. 

……………………………..

It hadn’t taken Galahad long to wash up and throw on a change of clothes and head out for the tavern, it was only a short walk from his quarters and he could already hear the merriment in full swing. Pausing at the door glancing through the small open window he spotted his friends sitting at their usual table in the back of the room. Gawain had found himself a barmaid to perch on his lap as he drank from a large tankard of beer. Bors was busying himself with his lover and his rabble of children swinging one of the younger ones over his back as he roared with laughter. Arthur was as always, brooding in the corner the permanent look of constraint on his grand features. 

“You not joining them?” Galahad was startled by the voice in his ear, spinning around to face Tristan who was standing inches from him. 

“It’s not nice to sneak up on people” Galahad grabbed at his chest in mock exaggeration. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you Galahad” There was his name again, he wouldn’t admit it but he was missing the pet name as it was becoming strange to hear Tristan use his actual name when he was so used to the nickname. 

“Yeah…well…I was just taking a moment before going in” Galahad didn’t entirely lie but he didn’t want to expose any vulnerability to Tristan so kept any other admissions inside. 

“Would you care for a walk? It’s a lovely night out” Tristan asked a smile tugging at his lips, as he looked up into the night sky the stars glistening brightly. 

“Gawain is expecting me” Galahad felt bad at turning down the offer, he didn’t want to the thought of taking a walk under the stars with Tristan was a better offer than Gawain and his drunken antics. 

“He looks pre-occupied at the moment, I’m sure he won't miss you” Tristan narrowed his eyes at the sight through the tavern window, the young barmaid was now wrapped in Gawain’s embrace and they were lost in the passion of each other. 

“Fine, I guess I could use the air” Galahad watched Tristan turn on his heels and heading for the forest Galahad following close behind. 

They walked together their arms brushing against each other as they walked up the gentle incline towards the familiar trees. Tristan knew these forests like the back of his hand and was leading Galahad to a specific spot the young man following his lead with ease and without objection. Tristan walked them into the depths of the forest Isolde circling overheard her calls filtering through the gaps in the treetops. Tristan watched her with a beam, he took his confidence and wrapped his fingers around Galahad’s hand as it brushed against his own and pulled him as he picked up their speed. Before long Tristan was using his free hand to push aside the bushes revealing a clearing in the forest with an unobstructed view of the night sky, there was a stretch of water forming a small lake that span across the clearing. Tristan pulled them to the edge of the water keeping a tight grasp on Galahad’s hand holding him in place as he strained his neck to look up at the bright night sky. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Tristan broke the silence as he took in a deep breath of the night air the cold was sharp against his throat but he bathed in the light of the moon and the stars feeling completely at peace with the world around him. This was something he had done many times before on a clear night but every other time he had been alone, this time the reassuring squeeze of his hand reminded him that he was no longer alone. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it” Galahad whispered squeezing the hand wrapped in his own finally relaxing into the night. Galahad moved closer to Tristan his arm now pressed against the other man’s body as he joined Tristan in admiring the night sky.   
Galahad took a moment to glance across at Tristan, his eyes still fixed on the sky but his beaming smile showed his pure appreciation and tranquillity he felt in this secluded spot. The stars were reflecting in his eyes and Galahad couldn’t help but think how beautiful he looked right now with his sparkling eyes and the twisted braid falling over his face, Galahad used his free hand to push back the braid to expose his face. Tristan felt the touch and was finally drawn away from the beauty of the stars.

“You’re beautiful” Galahad spoke softly his fingers twirling the end of the braid still in his hand. Tristan looked down at their entwined fingers letting out a breathe the cold air visibly swirling around them. 

“I have never shown anyone this place, my own private haven somewhere I can come and know I will be completely alone” Tristan spoke rubbing his fingers over Galahad’s hand. 

“Why show me?” 

“Because I no longer wanted to be alone, and I wanted to see if the beauty compared” Tristan looked back at the sky. 

“There’s no contest from where I’m standing” Galahad never took his eyes off Tristan his emotions finally falling free. Tristan turned to face him releasing their hands and placing them over Galahad’s cheeks starring into his blue eyes that reflected the sky so perfectly it was like looking at the galaxy in his eyes. 

“The moment I laid my eyes on you all those years ago I knew I would never have to be alone again, I had seen a purity within you that no one else could see” Tristan spoke softly the words he spoke surprised Galahad as Tristan revealed his true feelings how he had always felt towards him. 

“I always thought you hated me” Galahad chuckled in an attempt to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“I never hated you I’ve just been a coward for too long” Tristan knew he had wasted too much time pining from his perch high in the trees watching the young boy grow and turn into a handsome, brave Knight of the roundtable. He also watched the man he loved spend his nights in the arms of barmaids and the daughters of the Roman soldiers never believing he would ever return his love. 

“I have always loved you Tristan, it just took a blow to the head to finally realise that my anger towards you…was actually love” Galahad didn’t hold back letting his feelings be known making his intentions clear. 

“I believe it was me that took the knock to the head…twice actually” Tristan laughed pulling the man close to his body. 

“Exactly” Galahad simply replied before closing the gap and pressing their lips together in a firm but gentle movement. Tristan took a moment to relax into the embrace and slowly began to move in unison with Galahad’s lips as if they were made to fit together. As he pulled away Galahad tightened his grip on Tristan’s waist pulling on the rough fabric of his tunic. 

“I love you little pup” The name sent a chill through Galahad as he finally realised the sentiment behind the word, for years it had been Tristan’s way of saying ‘I love you’ without letting the words fall from his lips. 

“I love you too” Galahad responded with another gentle kiss. 

Isolde soared overhead calling out to her master but her calls were unheeded for Tristan was a little pre-occupied too.


End file.
